The wind carried a hollow howl across the Black Plains, its voice like distant echoes of forgotten souls.
Argolaith, Kaelred, and Malakar stood motionless, eyes locked on the spot where the Veiled Order had been moments before.
Then—nothing.
No footprints. No lingering presence.
Only silence.
Kaelred's jaw clenched. "I hate that. I really, really hate that."
Argolaith took a slow breath, his eyes scanning the horizon. "They were testing us."
Malakar chuckled. "Of course they were. The Veiled Order never acts without purpose."
Kaelred exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "And what, exactly, do they want?"
Malakar smirked. "Ah, but that's the question, isn't it?"
Argolaith's grip tightened on his sword. "Then let's make them answer it."
And so, they pressed forward.
The sun had long begun to sink, casting long shadows across the landscape.
